Punk-Approved Wuss Rock Recordings/HC Classix

[John P. Strohm]

I’m currently writing an article on the Zero Boys in celebration of their upcoming catalogue re-issue, which I’m looking forward to posting soon. It’s gotten me to thinking about hardcore more than usual. I recently engaged in an interesting exchange in the comments section of my recent blog post “some random thoughts…” Somehow the subject of Michael Jackson came up. Thus far I’ve generated essentially zero support from my assertion that MJ is a great artist and an important cultural figure - something I believe without shame or reservation.

It made me think about the early 80s, when Michael Jackson ruled the charts and airwaves. I listened almost exclusively to punk and hardcore in those days. Freda, my high school girlfriend, and I kept our shared appreciation of Michael Jackson and Prince very much under wraps among our group of friends, who would not have been very understanding. I also kept pretty quiet about loving Bruce Springsteen, though honestly my peak live music experience from 1984 – a year in which I played and attended many punk shows – was seeing Bruce in Chicago on the Born in the U.S.A. tour. Oh, and we also privately dug Madonna - it came as a relief when the likes of Mike Watt and Sonic Youth professed their love for Madge.

I remember briefly questioning my lifelong love of the Beatles and Stones due to the Zero Boys’ “Livin’ in the 80s” (lyric: “I don’t remember the Beatles/I don’t like the Stones”), eventually deciding that I could appreciate the sentiment without accepting it as dogma. I chuckled to myself when I first recorded with Paul Mahern in the late 80s. He kept two discs close at hand for sonic reference and constant appreciation: The White Album and Exile on Main Street.

Nevertheless, there were a handful of non-punk artists that were universally approved in our scene. Here are the ones I remember:

1. The Psychedelic Furs: I’m not sure what the deal was with this. Someone went public with their appreciation (maybe Wes Burton?) and everybody followed suit. I remember going to the ’83 concert at the I.U. Auditorium en masse.

2. Pink Floyd (especially Dark Side of the Moon): approved stoner music. One punk who shall remain nameless used to try to get everyone at parties to take a big bong hit and then lie on the floor in the dark to hear the album. Hilarious.

3. Johnny Cash: I think this started with Jack Whitebread, then k/a Rat Rondell. There’s some funny discussion of The Man in Black in one of the Tussin’ Up issues.

4. The Stray Cats: as a fledgling guitarist, I couldn't resist this band. But I remember it being totally okay to dig them, even though they were ultra-mainstream. 80s 50s was so much more awesome than 70s 50s (e.g. Sha Na Na), right?

I know there were others, but I’m drawing a blank. Of course there were all sorts of artists that evolved from hardcore, such as The Minutemen, Husker Du, Meat Puppets, Replacements, Butthole Surfers, etc. etc. that were accepted. But I’m more interested in the stuff that was totally outside of hardcore.

In the “Random Thoughts” comments, I also mentioned that I believe there are a handful of classic first-generation hardcore records and a lot of forgettable albums. I thought I’d take a crack at naming the hardcore records that I consider timeless classics. I’m limiting this to American punk/HC releases from between 1979 and 1984, no first generation artists, and it’s off the top of my head. Some of these artists had several albums that could be on the list, so I picked the one that I think is best. No compilations. In no particular order:

Bad Brains: Rock for Light
Black Flag: Damaged
Descendants: Milo Goes to College
Zero Boys: Vicious Circle
Minor Threat: Discography
Angry Samoans: Back from Samoa
The Germs: GI
X: Los Angeles
Husker Du: Zen Arcade
Minutemen: Double Nickels on the Dime
Dead Kennedys: Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables
Bad Religion: How Could Hell Be Any Worse?
Fear: The Record
Negative Approach: EP
Replacements: Sorry Ma (I prefer Let It Be and Hootenanny from the era, but I don’t consider them punk records).
Misfits: Walk Among Us
Circle Jerks: Group Sex
Social Distortion: Mommy’s Little Monster
Agent Orange: Living in Darkness
Flipper: Generic Flipper
The Dicks: Kill From the Heart

Help me out – what am I forgetting?

[Kurt/Yukki]

"All Karmic debts being satisfied"

That never happens.

[David Schlabach]

34 comments to go.....if you make it I will hand over the Golden Ticket *sigh*

I shall stop at 999.
And again YOU shall attain the 1000th post.
All Karmic debts being satisfied, harmony and equilibrium will once again rule supreme.

[Jbarge]

34 comments to go.....if you make it I will hand over the Golden Ticket *sigh*

[David Schlabach]

">object>
These chains of sorrow, they are heavy, it is true
And these locks cannot be broken,
no, not with one thousand keys
O Jailer, you wear a ball-n-chain you cannot see
You can lay your burden on me
You can lay your burden down on me
You can lay your burden down upon me
But you cannot lay down those memories.
Woooo wooo wooo
Woooo wooo wooo
Here I go!
Knockin on Joe!
This square foot of sky will be mine til I die
Knocking on Joe
Woooo wooo wooo
All down the row.
Knockin on Joe.
O Warden I surrender you
Your fists cain't hurt me anymore
You know, these hands will never wash
These dirty Death Row floors
O Preacher, come closer, you don't scare me anymore
Just tell Nancy not to come here
Just tell her not to come here anymore
Tell Nancy not to come
And let me die in the memory of her arms.
O woo woo woo
Woo woo woo
All down the row.
Knockin on Joe.
O you kings of halls and ends of halls
You will die within these walls
And I'll go, all down the row
Knockin on Joe.
O Nancy's body is a coffin,
she wears my tombstone at her head
O Nancy's body is a coffin,
she wears my tombstone at her head
She wears her body like a coffin
She wears a dress of gold and red
She wears a dress of gold and red
She wears a dress of red and gold
Grave-looters at my coffin
before my bodies even cold.
It's a door for when I go
Knockin on Joe
These hands will never mop
your dirty Death Row floors
No! You can hide! You can run!
O but your trial is yet to come
O you can run! You can hide!
But you have yet to be tried!
You can lay your burden down here
You can lay your burden down here
Knockin on Joe
You can lay your burden upon me
You can lay your burden down upon me
Knockin on Joe
You cain't hurt me anymore
Knockin on Joe.

[David Schlabach]

">object>
In an ice-capped fire
Of burning wood
In our world of wire
Ignite our dreams of starry skies
And you and me
As realised our bigger themes


Oh, take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me
Take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me


Do or die
What's done is done
True beauty lies
On the blue horizon


Who or why
What's one is one
In pure disguise
Of vulgar sons


Oh, take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me
Take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me


Whatever burns burns eternally
So take me in turns internally
When I'm on fire
My body will be
Forever yours
Nocturnal me


In an ice-capped fire
Of burning wood
In our world of wire
Ignite our dreams of starry skies
And you and me
As realised our bigger themes


Oh, take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me
Take me internally
Forever yours
Nocturnal me

[David Schlabach]

">object>
White light, White light goin' messin' up my mind
White light, and don't you know its gonna make me go blind
White heat, aww white heat it tickle me down to my toes
White light, Ooo have mercy while I'll have it goodness knows

White light, White light goin' messin' up my brain
White light, Aww white light its gonna drive me insane
White heat, Aww white heat it tickle me down to my toes
White light, Aww white light I said now goodness knows, do it

Hmm hmm, White light
Aww I surely do love to watch that stuff tip itself in
Hmm hmm, White light
Watch that side, watch that side don't you know it gonna be dead in the drive
Hmm hmm, White heat
Hey foxy mama watchin' her walk down the street
Hmm hmm, White light
Come up side your head gonna make a deadend on your street

White light, When I moved in me intween my brain
White light, White light goin' makin' you go insane
White heat, Aww white heat it tickle me down to my toes
White light, Aww white light I said now goodness knows

White light, Aww white light it lighten up my eyes
White light, don't you know it fills me up with suprise
White light, Aww white heat tickle me down to my toes
White light, Aww white light I tell you now goodness knows, now work it

Hmm hmm, White light
Aww she surely do moves me
Hmm hmm, White light
Watch that speed freak, watch that speed freak everybody gonna go and make it every week
Hmm hmm, White heat
Aww sputter mutter everybody gonna go kill their mother
Hmm hmm, White light
Here she comes, here she comes, everybody get 'n gone make me run to her

[David Schlabach]

And so the story goes
they wore the clothes
They said the things
to make it seem improbable
The whale of a lie
like they hope it was
And the Goodmen of Tomorrow
Had their feet in the wallow
And their heads of Brawn
were nicer shorn
And how they bought their positions with saccharin and trust
And the world was asleep
to our latent fuss
Sighing, the swirl through the streets
Like the crust of the sun
The Bewlay Brothers
In our Wings that Bark
Flashing teeth of Brass
Standing tall in the dark
Oh, And we were Gone
Hanging out with your Dwarf Men
We were so turned on
By your lack of conclusions

I was Stone and he was Wax
So he could scream,
and still relax, unbelievable
And we frightened the small children away
And our talk was old
and dust would flow
Thru our veins and Lo!
it was midnight
Back o' the kitchen door
Like the grim face
on the Cathedral floor
And the solid book we wrote
Cannot be found today

And it was Stalking time
for the Moonboys
The Bewlay Brothers
With our backs on the arch
In the Devil-may-be-here
But He can't sing about that
Oh, And we were Gone
Real Cool Traders
We were so Turned On
You thought we were Fakers

Now the dress is hung,
the ticket pawned
The Factor Max that proved the fact
Is melted down
And woven on the edging of my pillow
Now my Brother lays upon the Rocks
He could be dead, He could be not
He could be You
He's Camelian, Comedian, Corinthian and Caricature
"Shooting-up Pie-in-the-Sky"
The Bewlay Brothers
In the feeble and the Bad
The Bewlay Brothers
In the Blessed and Cold
In the Crutch-hungry Dark
Was where we flayed our Mark
Oh, and we were Gone
Kings of Oblivion
We were so Turned On
In the Mind-Warp Pavilion

Lay me place and bake me Pie
I'm starving for me Gravy
Leave my shoes, and door unlocked
I might just slip away
Just for the Day, Hey!
Please come Away, Hey!

[David Schlabach]

The throne of time
Is a kingly thing
From whence you know
We all do begin
And dressed as you are girl
In your fashions of fate
Baby it's too late.

Shallow are the actions
Of the children of men
Fogged was their vision
Since the ages began
And lost like a lion
In the canyons of smoke
Girl it's no joke

[David Schlabach]

Pere Ubu are an experimental rock music group formed in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1975.
While Pere Ubu have never been widely popular—usually categorized as "underground rock"—they have a devoted following, have been hugely influential on several generations of avant-garde musicians and are a critically acclaimed American musical group.
Pere Ubu refuses to discuss or explain their enigmatic music, forgoing press interviews. They have compiled a list of guidelines for touring, live performances and the like: "Lighting should be theatrical rather than rockist. We are interested in atmosphere, mood, drama, energy, subtlety, imagination—not rock cliché

[jennifer johnson]

Happy Inauguration Day bloggers!